


An Ode to the Ones Left Behind

by keirajo



Series: Random Transformers Works (multiple generations, etc.) [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Depression, Pain, Sad, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 23:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17590241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: In the "other universe", a question from Drift brings up memories that Rodimus has tried to forget while being on the Exitus for so many years.





	An Ode to the Ones Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you've read "Lost Light" #25, because at this point you really can't avoid spoilers, it's been a couple months! XD

An Ode to the Ones Left Behind

 

 

            It had been far too many years, decades or more, and Rodimus had grown weary on thinking of the past or even upon thinking of the future.   He strove, _just barely_ most days, to live for the day he was living on _that particular day_.   After all, how could he **_possibly_** be happy on the _Exitus_ —with a mech he didn’t like whatsoever, such as Thunderclash?   How could he be happy on a ship with nobody he really knew and those people he _thought_ he knew were from the Functionist Cybertron (now _New Cybertron_ ), so they really weren’t the mechs and femmes he _actually_ knew.

            How could he be happy without Ultra Magnus to tease or Drift to talk to?

            How could he be happy without………. ** _no_**.

            Rodimus swore he wouldn’t think about **_that_** anymore.   So, it didn’t just make him so desperately sad when Drift asked him—it made him _angry_ , as well.   And Drift even had the gall to ask if he had been drinking, too?   He actually wanted to punch the swordsmech for asking him that.

            “Rodimus—before you go………….” the white-and-grey mech began, softly, peering into the small travel pod and glanced over at the pilot before choosing his next words.   “Do you think it worked?”   He asked, not even really noticing the myriad of expressions that crossed his flame-colored friend’s faceplate.

            Rodimus couldn’t believe Drift had asked that—they’d all sworn they’d _never_ talk about it!   They’d all take it to their graves first…………then talk about it in the Afterspark.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus looked at the bottle he’d begged for from Swerve—it read “ _Chaos Inferno_ ”.   Who the hell named Engex concoctions anyways………and had they been sampling the mix while trying to name it?!

            It didn’t matter—all that mattered was that it got him drunk enough so that he wouldn’t feel it.

            The flame-colored mech stood atop the tallest tower in this version of Iacon on this weird, neatly-maintained Functionist Cybertron.   He could really see a lot from up here, but he was still so very far away from the stars.   _He missed that_.   **_All of it_**.  The good, the bad and even Megatron.

            _Especially Megatron_.

            “Yeah, eternal punishment, my aft,” the flame-colored Autobot growled.   “There was never any doubt that it was going to be an execution.   _None whatsoever_!”   He snapped to the empty air around him and knocked the top of the bottle against an edge of the tower to open it.

            Rodimus had even _lied_ on the stand to try and save Megatron.   Granted, no one but he and Megatron knew the truth of what happened when the crew was struggling so hard to open the various Matrixes across the planet.   And he saw Megatron’s face when he stated that it was the former Decepticon Leader who was able to open it and _not him_ —and the shock as the former warlord looked at the truth meter behind Rodimus and saw that it didn’t prove he was lying.

            That was Rodimus, though—so good at lying to the world around him that he somewhat believed every lie out of his own mouth.   If only he could lie to himself right now.   _About everything he felt_.   It would be great if he could do that and believe his own lies.

            Ah well, but that’s what the mega-strong Engex and jumping off this tower was for.   _Time for this flame to burn out…………._

            Rodimus swallowed the whole bottle of “ _Chaos Inferno_ ” in a couple of big gulps and shuttered his optics.   Now, **_wow_** —that was fantastic stuff and clearly meant to be diluted before drinking.   He immediately felt the world kind of swirl around him, even with his optics shuttered.   _This would **totally** work. _  Give him just a few moments to absorb all that into his system.

            Then he’d open his chestplate and plunge to his death.   _The worst death in the universe for the universe’s very worst mech._

            “Here we go,” Rodimus said, softly, opening his chestplate and stepping forwards.

            He felt nothing beneath his pede and then………….

 

~

 

            “ ** _Shut up!_**    I _gave_ that to you!”   Rodimus laughed, when Megatron showed him the secret treasure in his servos.

            The cell was nearly dark with a bare minimal of lighting, but the shiny, though a bit scuffed and dented, Rodimus Star practically glowed in Megatron’s black servos.

            “Yes, _eight-hundred and nineteen years ago_.   It’s **_never_** left my possession,” Megatron answered, looking down at it fondly.  “In the Functionist Universe, it was my one link to my old life.”   Megatron paused, glancing away from Rodimus and then gazed directly into the younger mech’s blue optics.   “ _My best life_.”

            _Well, **frag**_.

            _Of course_ it happened like **_this_**.

            Rodimus heard Ultra Magnus’ familiar steps in the hallway and knew he didn’t have any time at all, so all he did was grabbed Megatron’s faceplate as roughly as he could and kissed him—with a harsh, thrusting glossa—for as long as he could before the steps were too close and he had to pull away.

            “I _never_ get a break,” Rodimus mumbled as he pushed himself away, very hard, so that Magnus wouldn’t think foolish things upon seeing two fools in the cell together, as he got to the cell bars.

            Megatron was staring at him, a mix of deep longing and an even deeper regret in his old red optics.  “Take this—keep it for me, until a time when we meet again,” Megatron said, hastily shoving the battered Rodimus Star into its very creator’s servos.   “Rodimus.  Whatever happens next— _whatever my fate_ —I deserve worse,” he said, smiling at the younger mech with the first honest smile of fondness that Rodimus could ever remember seeing.

            Rodimus stood mutely outside the cell for several moments after Ultra Magnus and Megatron had walked away.   _Of course_.   Of course it all happened **_like this_** …………everything Hot Rod of Nyon touches burns, until it was nothing but ashes.

            _Then he wouldn’t do it_.   **_He wouldn’t touch anything anymore_**.   And there was one really good solution to make sure that he never touched anything ever again.   Swerve would have what he needed.   Some really, _really_ strong Engex.   And that tower he saw on his way to the prison block— _that_ would work perfectly.

            If they were going to execute a Captain of the _Lost Light_ —they were going to see the death of the other one as well.

 

~

 

            “ _Nooooooooooo! **Nononononono!!!**   Let me go!   **Letmegoletmegoletmegoletmego!!!**_ ”   Rodimus wailed as a strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him back onto the ledge of the tower.

            “I can’t do that, Rodimus,” a familiar voice said softly.  “Come on, you’re coming with me, then—someone needs to keep you from doing idiotic things.”

            “ _Dammit Thunderclash! **Let me go!**    I order you to **let me go** , damn you!_”  The flame-colored mech sobbed.   He couldn’t even get suicide right!   He was such a waste of Spark and program!!!

            “I told you, I can’t do that,” the heroic old Autobot said, then he slammed a palm into the back of Rodimus’ neck and sent him into unconsciousness.

            When Rodimus woke up, he was in a room that was completely unfamiliar to him, but looked vaguely like a medi-bay of some sort.   Everything was muddled and his head was killing him—the Engex was just as strong as Swerve promised, he’d be feeling this hangover for days.   _Why not_ , it only served to remind him he couldn’t live right and he couldn’t even die right!

            Then he heard voices, speaking softly, from somewhere across the strange room.   He looked over and saw Thunderclash speaking with a medic, most likely, from the red-and-white standard coloring scheme.   Rather short, too, had something of a femme build as well.   When Thunderclash looked up and saw Rodimus looking around, he strode quickly to the medical berth and stared down at him.

            “ _Well_?”   The old Autobot hero asked, folding his arms across his chest.

            “Well _what_?   I think what I was doing was pretty obvious,” Rodimus muttered, his soft-spoken voice sounding way too loud to him and making his hangover headache a million times worse.

            A just punishment for one such as him, he figured.

            “Yes.  But _why_ were you doing it?”  Thunderclash asked, softly.

            “ _Because it was time_.   I had nowhere to go, no one to snuggle against.   I couldn’t even save _one damn life_ ………….” Rodimus muttered, dragging his legs up to his chin.

            “You saved a lot of lives, Rodimus—including mine,” the older mech sighed, shaking his head with pity.

            “ _Bzzt!   Wrong!_ ”   Rodimus snapped, sharper than even he’d intended to sound, raising his arms and crossing them in front of him with an X-shape.   “I saved **_nothing_** and certainly no one important!   I only saved myself…………I only keep living through sheer dumb luck.  Then people around me are lucky to be saved by my stupid, unlucky aura!”

            “You’re in _much worse shape_ than Swerve thought,” Thunderclash murmured, relaxing his stance a bit, but still had his arms crossed over his chest.   “After you visited him and begged for a good bottle of Engex—telling him to keep your bank card because you didn’t need it anymore—he tried to call _anyone_ he could find.   He tried calling Drift first, but I know they’re on a silence fasting to bond deeper with one another, so he couldn’t reach the one mech you might listen to the most.  Ultra Magnus was at the execution, of course.   He tried so many that he had the PCCs for…………and landed on Velocity at the end.   I happened to be with Velocity at the time and she had me go to try and find you.”

            Rodimus growled and grumbled softly.   How’d _Swerve_ figure out what he was going to do?   And how’d he know _where_ to tell someone to look for him at?

            “You also apparently said to Swerve you wanted to find a _‘good view’_ —that meant you were going to be on top of something very high,” Thunderclash answered, as if knowing what the younger mech was thinking.

            “ _I **hate** you_,” Rodimus mumbled, pouting and burying his faceplate in his knee joints.

            “Hate me all you like, but you’re stuck with me on the _Exitus_ now,” Thunderclash chuckled.

            “ _What the frag……..?! **Did you fragging kidnap me?!**_ ”   Rodimus yelled, his head jerking up sharply—and then he regretted it as the pain in his head was so sharp that he thought his brain module had just exploded.

            “Someone needs to babysit you, apparently—to keep you from doing foolish things, like ending your life,” the old hero said, softly.

            Rodimus began crying.   Now he was stuck with a guy he didn’t like, a crew he didn’t even know………..he didn’t have Drift or Magnus……….

            _Or Megatron_.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            After grunting to Drift that he didn’t know and a soft, sad little tone when he said he hoped it worked……Drift gave him a puzzled look.

            “Keep in touch?”  Rodimus asked, breaking the sudden and awkward silence.   He’d said it simply for more or less just to have some parting words to give to the swrodsmech.   After all these years, he didn’t honestly think Drift would contact him—he hadn’t tried before.

            “If I can _find_ you, sure,” the swordsmech chuckled, holding out his hands and taking Rodimus’ worn yellow servo.   He made some motions of a chirolinguistical nature, wishing Rodimus peace and happiness.

            Rodimus couldn’t say anything or even respond much—he knew very few chirolinguistical words, so he signed the only one he knew in Drift’s palm.   “ _Thank you_ ”, was what he signed, right before he pulled his servo away and backed into the ship, asking the pilot to take him back to the _Exitus_.

            When the flame-colored mech got back—his years-long babysitter was in the landing dock to greet him.

            “ _You_ could’ve gone, you know.   Supposedly you and Ratchet were really great friends,” Rodimus snapped, shoving Thunderclash’s shoulder as he walked past the taller and bulkier mech.

            “I thought it would be good for you to see them all again,” Thunderclash chuckled warmly, falling in step behind his Second-in-Command.

            “Yeah, thanks for letting me dredge up all the pain and anguish I thought I’d finally buried for good,” the flame-colored mech grumbled.

            “We spoke of this—you _shouldn’t_ let things fester inside you,” the old hero responded, reaching over to rub Rodimus’ helm fondly.

            “Then you’d have had to have found me after Nyon burned,” Rodimus snapped back, scrambling to get away from his overly-affectionate commanding officer.   “Look, you said I could have the next two duty shifts off if I went—so, _I’m going to go brood in my room and paint_.  Leave me alone and for Primus’ sake—keep it quiet with whomever you take to berth tonight.   I don’t want to hear you gloriously fragging someone in the room next to me—it doesn’t help me paint any better.”

            “ _You_ could come to my berth tonight,” Thunderclash teased.

            “ _Frag off you fragging fragger_ ,” Rodimus snapped, dashing off and giving the old Autobot hero a very rude gesture to go along with his very rude words.

            “I really do wish you’d _stop teasing him_ ,” a new voice said, as a datapad slapped Thunderclash in the hip.  He looked down to see his CMO next to him.   “He’ll _never_ be friendly with you, at least not in the way you’d really want him to be.   You kidnapped him and forced him to be here on the _Exitus_ —you even made him your lieutenant merely to keep him out of trouble.   Sometimes there’s only so far you can go with kindness, Thunderclash,” Minerva sighed.

            “He is a brilliant and beautiful young mech, if only he could see that too,” Thunderclash sighed.   “I promised Velocity I’d save him, but I promised Ultra Magnus I’d keep him out of trouble.”

            “I wonder what he’ll paint this time?   His works are so spark-wrenching and so beautiful,” Minerva murmured, smiling as she swatted Thunderclash’s hip again with her datapad.   “You offered him two off-shifts, so _guess who gets to cover that_ , Captain?”   She chuckled.

            Thunderclash laughed heartily and headed to the bridge.   Maybe in another couple centuries Rodimus would finally start opening up and want to live again.   Spark-break was never easy for any mech or femme—and someone with Rodimus’ deeply-rooted insecurities, it would probably take a whole lot longer.   He didn’t know why or when Rodimus had fallen in love with Megatron, but he knew the execution was the trigger needed to finally motivate the flame-colored mech into actually going through with the suicidal desires haunting his Spark—until that point, Rodimus had been able to bear his deep and old pain, laughing at the world.

            Maybe one day Rodimus would be able to smile at the world and at people again.  It was something that would just take time.   A lot more time than had already passed.

**Author's Note:**

> It just always struck me at how sad Rodimus looked in that ending and how much he forced himself to be excited to be on Thunderclash's ship. I've been wanting to write this for awhile.
> 
> I don't generally do sad/depressing things without a happy ending in sight--but you can always read my other series with the "alternate post-ending adventure", "The Love of Romance"...........which is the happier ending compared to this. :)


End file.
